


Frustration

by LadyAlura



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: AU where they go to separate universities, Aged-Up Character(s), I was going to write this as smut but got distracted and wrote angst instead, Light Angst, M/M, my very first completed fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-29
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-23 21:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6130438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyAlura/pseuds/LadyAlura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oikawa was a singularity in Iwaizumi’s life, ever since they started at the same school.  He was always drawing him in, always there for Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi had vowed, in silence, to always be there for him, his Tooru.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Frustration

**Author's Note:**

> aaaahhhh so this is my very first haikyuu fic that I've completed. I have 2 others that are WIPs and a friend and I are planning a multichapter one.. but I wrote this as practice (I also am obsessed with iwaoi)  
> This probably isn't the best writing ever, since I've never taken a creative writing class, nor do I want to be a write, but I love writing. I also felt that I should contribute to the wonderful fandom that is the haikyuu fandom.. so... here ya go  
> I'd also like to thank my partner in sin for helping me by beta reading it  
> (also should be called the fic I wanted to write as smut but can't write smut so I turned it into light angst)

Frustration was what Oikawa felt when the final whistle pierced the air as the game was called.

Frustration was what Oikawa felt when he gripped the opposing team’s captain’s hand and shook.

Frustration was what Oikawa felt when Iwaizumi smirked at him from the other side of the net when they unlocked their grips on each other.  And if there was anything Oikawa wasn’t, it was a loser, but his match against Iwaizumi’s university team proved otherwise. 

They had lost by the skin of their teeth, Oikawa’s setting ability taking full control of the match during the last set.  From what he had weeded out of Iwaizumi beforehand about the opposing setter, Oikawa had thoroughly devised a plan of attack and defense for his team.  Although he was not captain (not captain _yet_ , he always said), Oikawa was wholeheartedly devoted to his university team.  Countless hours and practices he poured into the team, and they reaped the reward of his dedication.  Iwaizumi’s team, Oikawa noted after a thorough investigation, had serious flaws.  They were barely held together by Iwaizumi himself, using his brute spiking strength and experience with working with Oikawa to keep their ranking.

Questions and half-formed answers of how Oikawa had lost to _him_ coalesced and split apart like a thunder storm inside of his skull as he fumed silently towards the university gym bathrooms.  It was a home game, nonetheless, which to Oikawa, was rubbing salt into his freshly opened wounds.

Pushing the heavy door open, Oikawa stepped into the bathroom.  Four sinks and a large mirror lined the left wall, and several stalls bordered the right.  The showers were in the back of the room, sectioned off by a half-wall and curtains.  Oikawa contemplated taking a scalding hot shower to wash away his annoying thoughts of loss and defeat, but the lack of his gym bag and any additional changes of clothes shot down that line of thinking.  The door swings shut behind Oikawa, filling the tiled room with an oppressive silence, the only sound being a faint water drip from a leaky faucet. 

Oikawa walked to the counter and braced his hands against the edge, gripping the surface hard enough to turn his knuckles white with strain.  All of his emotions that he kept pinned down during the match against Iwaizumi (no, Iwaizumi’s _team_ ) came bubbling out of his mind like tar.  They seeped down his spine, past his thighs, and settled like dirt in water at the bottom of his feet.  Oikawa felt _sick_.  He felt as if he would throw up directly into the sink, all while staring at his distorted reflection in the cracked and grimy mirror.  He lowered his head so that his chin rested on his chest, and he breathed.  Deep, gulping breaths that he hoped would calm his nerves and dispel his negative emotions.  It had been so long since he had felt defeat, and defeat at the hands of his best friend turned boyfriend was the absolute worst.

_It’s just a game_ , he thought.  But since when has volleyball ever been just a game for Oikawa Tooru?  He could lie to himself all he wanted, chanting that mantra over and over, that he had done his best, that he had not failed himself or his team, but the harsh reality that this time, his best just wasn’t enough, would come crashing down around him.  Oikawa’s self-loathing was interrupted by the creak of the bathroom door as someone pushed it open.  Oikawa turned his head to face the intruder, glaring at them with eyes like liquid fire.  He was a mess of emotions behind his normal façade, and this man had just walked in on the leakage of those emotions.  The man stuttered an apology for disturbing Oikawa and hastily let the door swing shut. Despite it being a public university restroom, the mass of negative energy around Oikawa was enough to turn anyone away, no matter how bad their urge to relieve themselves was.

The peace, however, was shattered once again as the door was nudged open.  The man, seemingly oblivious to Oikawa, was nearly halfway to the first open stall, most likely planning on relieving himself after a tough match (as indicated by his sweaty volleyball uniform), when both Oikawa and him stopped dead.  Both men locked eyes and stared at each other, _hard_ , because Oikawa was staring right back at Iwaizumi.  The tension in the air was thick and oppressive, but it wasn’t the usual tension they both felt around each other when meeting after a prolonged absence due to school, work, or practice (or sometimes all three).  That tension was categorized by Oikawa as the good kind, the sexual kind, which was now easily resolvable since they’re confessions to one another back in high school.  This tension was the electrically charged tension that crackled between two rivals, and finally broke whenever the other decided to move.  And right now, neither of them were moving.

Iwaizumi was, for once in a long while, at a loss for words around Oikawa.  His mouth was normally spewing curses and insults at his rather annoying boyfriend whenever they were around each other, or Iwaizumi was whispering reassurance and positivity’s to Oikawa behind closed doors.  They had a push and pull relationship, with Oikawa often pushing himself to his breaking point and Iwaizumi having to pull him back in from the edge.  Except now, being at separate universities and playing on separate teams, Iwaizumi was barely there physically for his best friend, which is where he needed him the most. 

Iwaizumi’s resolve from the earlier match snapped (the one he had sworn he was going to keep) and he rushed Oikawa, pinning the brunette to the counter, both of his arms acting as a barrier so that Oikawa couldn’t wiggle away.

“Iwa-chan, what’re you—” came Oikawa’s surprised response to Iwaizumi’s sudden action that had broken their tense, albeit brief, silence, before their mouths clashed together.  Oikawa gave a small groan at the contact, but Iwaizumi was overpowering.  Iwaizumi shifted, dragging his hand up Oikawa’s sweaty and still clothed side, coming to rest carefully at the nape of his neck.  His other hand, still firmly placed to the right of Oikawa, went to grab at Oikawa’s hip.  Iwaizumi’s fingertips dug into flesh, hard enough to bruise, but only as a reminder that they were here right now, together, after so many weeks of being apart.  Oikawa didn’t protest at the sudden pressure to his side as he slid his now freed hands to wrap around Iwaizumi’s neck.

Both men were sweaty and exhausted from their match, Oikawa was still filled with raw emotion and Iwaizumi wasn’t any better off, so they each poured their hearts into the kiss.  Oikawa’s rough, chapped lips moved against Iwaizumi’s, occasionally sucking on his bottom lip and swiping his tongue over Iwaizumi’s mouth.  Iwaizumi took the hint and opened his mouth, allowing Oikawa easy access to his tongue.  The first slide of wet heat sent both Oikawa and Iwaizumi groaning hotly into each other’s lips.  Iwaizumi used his hold on Oikawa’s neck to deepen the kiss, slowly trying to push him into a sitting position on the bathroom counter.  But Oikawa was hungry—hungry for touch, hungry for heat, hungry for just about anything Iwaizumi would be willing to offer him. 

The power shift in the room snuck up on Iwaizumi like a predator, and Oikawa flipping their positions so that Iwaizumi was now pressed against the filmy bathroom wall was its pounce.  Iwaizumi landed winded, the cold press of the tile seeping into his fingertips as his palms were knocked against the wall. 

“Oikawa, I swear, things were just getting good.” Iwaizumi groaned out, letting his head fall against the tile.  Oikawa’s very obvious hard-on was pressed into Iwaizumi’s thigh, as their new position had one Oikawa’s legs between Iwaizumi’s.  Oikawa pressed up harder, dragging his hands down from Iwaizumi’s neck and across his shirt, stopping briefly at his stomach, before they hooked under Iwaizumi’s shirt and tugged.  “I know you’re used to being dominant, Iwa-chan, but I haven’t seen you in _weeks_ , and right now, I very much need you.” Oikawa choked out his last few words, showing the strain in his voice.  Despite Oikawa’s power shift in this situation, he still expected Iwaizumi to comfort him.

Free of his shirt, the cold wall offered a stark contrast to the furnace that was Oikawa.  Iwaizumi locked eyes with his boyfriend of nearly two years, and he saw an all too familiar sight.  There was pain and anger in those chocolate depths, but those emotions had always been there since university had begun. And Iwaizumi was the only one who could look deep enough to notice them.

“Oikawa, tell me right now what’s the matter.” Iwaizumi was firm in his asking, grabbing Oikawa at the waist and pulling him closer so that now their noses were touching.  The tension from the room melted as Oikawa dropped his head to the crook of Iwaizumi’s neck, burying his face into the tanned skin.  Iwaizumi felt the shaking start and the wetness begin on his shoulder as Oikawa broke into a silent sob.  Iwaizumi shifted his hands from Oikawa’s waist to around body, taking him in a strong embrace.  He rubbed small circles into Oikawa’s back and whispered and shushed into his ear. 

“It’s fine now, I’m here.”

“You idiot, don’t hold it back.”

“I love you so much, you know that, right?”

Once Oikawa’s rattling sobs decreased, Iwaizumi gripped Oikawa’s face with both hands, wiping away the tears from the corners of his eyes with the pads of his thumbs.  Oikawa had always been an ugly crier, one that only Iwaizumi had been privy to.  Now was no different than the other times Oikawa had broken down, but seeing Oikawa crying for the first time after several weeks of absence broke Iwaizumi’s heart. 

“Tooru, are you alright now?” Iwaizumi’s voice was low and soft, spoken only to the space in between the two.  Oikawa gave a weak nod, reaching up and holding onto the hand gripping his face.  Oikawa squeezed Iwaizumi’s hand, anchoring himself to the moment.  The bathroom around the two was filthy, but the only thing either of them saw was each other.  Oikawa was a singularity in Iwaizumi’s life, ever since they started at the same school.  He was always drawing him in, always _there_ for Iwaizumi, and Iwaizumi had vowed, in silence, to always be there for him, _his Tooru_.  “I’m fine now, Iwa-chan, I was just… I was so alone.” Oikawa gave a cracked smile that looked pained on his face, and Iwaizumi pressed his lips to his once again, in a chaste kiss dripping with emotion, to wipe away the pain from Oikawa.

Oikawa sighed into the kiss, letting Iwaizumi soothe him.  The back rubbing had felt so nice to Oikawa, and the rough hands that framed his face currently were the hands that had always spiked his sets in high school, that had smacked him across the back of the head, that had held his for the first time after years of pining, that had always anchored him, were doing just that.  Oikawa felt safe and secure with Iwaizumi, simple as that.  The kiss broke with Iwaizumi pulling back to catch his breath.  His cheeks were blushed over, and the thin sheen of sweat across his forehead made it glisten in the fluorescent bathroom light.

“I thought about you, during the match.” Iwaizumi paused, bumping noses with Oikawa, and Oikawa grinned, a real one this time.  “I thought about all the stuff that you would’ve been saying to me, had I been on the other side of that net with you.” 

“Hajime, don’t think about what could’ve been.” Oikawa had his mouth open to finish his thought, but Iwaizumi cut him off.

“All that matters, is that I think about what we are now, about what we are going to be, and about what area of the court to spike into next.”  Iwaizumi smirked at his own humor, and Oikawa swiped at him lightly with his free hand.  “Iwa-chan is so rude, to rub in his victory over me like that.”

“You better believe I’m going to be rubbing it in, dumbass.  It’s the first time I’ve won against you since university.”  Iwaizumi meant for his insult to be only taken jokingly, but Oikawa plastered on his trademarked pout and puppy eyes.  Their effect was lost, however, as Iwaizumi had had plenty of time to become immune to Oikawa’s tricks and charms.  Oikawa knew his efforts were in vain, but he kept the pout going.

“Oikawa.  It’s not going to work.”

“Iwa-chan is so mean.  At least apologize.”

“Fat chance, Shittykawa.”

Oikawa was about to respond, but their bantering was cut short and the bathroom door swung open.  Suddenly, the amount of time they had spent in the bathroom settled over them.  The man in the doorway entered the bathroom, but he didn’t move to a stall.  He crossed straight over to where Oikawa and Iwaizumi were pressed against the wall.  Iwaizumi was still incredibly shirtless, but both of their urges had calmed down.  The man stared Oikawa down, and Iwaizumi became aware of his hands still on Oikawa’s face.  He dropped his hands and didn’t try to stop the blush of embarrassment flowering on his ears and cheeks.  Iwaizumi notice the colors of the man’s outfit, and they were that of Oikawa’s team color.  The knowledge connected in Iwaizumi’s mind, supplying him with the answer of _oh, it’s his coach_.  The man who presumably was Oikawa’s volleyball coach crossed his arms, waiting for Oikawa to respond.  Apparently, he had asked a question that Iwaizumi had been too zoned out to hear. 

“It’s alright coach, this is just Iwaizumi.  The guy I’ve been telling you about,” came Oikawa’s reply.  Iwaizumi became even more flustered at the thought of Oikawa telling his coach about his relationship.

“And this is also the guy that just defeated you.  Next time, Oikawa, I expect a little more self-control before you storm off before a team meeting.”  Oikawa’s eyes shifted down guiltily, and he wrung his hands around Iwaizumi’s uniform shirt.  When he registered he was still holding the shirt, he quickly shoved it towards Iwaizumi.  “Uh, thanks,” was Iwaizumi’s only reply as he regained his shirt.  Oikawa’s coach turned back towards the door and Oikawa followed suit.  As he exited, Oikawa gave a quick wave to Iwaizumi, calling out “I’ll call you later, Iwa-chan!”.

Iwaizumi stood, slightly shocked and still bare-chested, gripping his shirt in his hands.  He was wrapped in thought when his phone buzzed in his pocket.  Iwaizumi had completely forgotten that he had it still, and apparently it had collected several unread messages from his own coach.  He unlocked the screen and found the most recent message, a quick few words from Oikawa.

_I love you, Iwa-chan~_

**Author's Note:**

> any comments are very much appreciated, kudos as well ^_^ my tumblr (writing blog) is [this piece of sin](http://totoro-tooru.tumblr.com/)


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